


A red light or a star

by Clocketpatch



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Destiny, Other, POV TARDIS, Pre-Series, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocketpatch/pseuds/Clocketpatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What comes, goes. What goes, comes. Everything in its time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A red light or a star

The first of us grew in the sea. We grew coral branches along the continental shallows and waited for our daily nutrients to be brought in each day on the tide. This body never grew free on the ocean bed, but I can remember through the forever stretching memory of our race the day we realized the cyclic cycle of the waters –

 

What comes, goes. What goes, comes. Everything in its time. Except, through sheer force of will, we learned to make that time come faster. We did it first.

 

The sun swelled in the sky quicker than it might have, and we learned consequence as the oceans froze and cracked. Land-dwelling, two-legged captors came. We saw them coming before they landed. We saw their enslavement. Freedom thieves. Salvation from ice.

 

I wasn't there. I was. In branching memory we saw, I see, that was the tide of what could be, would be, must be.

 

This is. And I am born in boxes.

 

The Time Lords think I am a servant. They believe this body is docile, tamed. They cannot see the web of time which stretches towards and beyond what must be, may be. All the first of us wanted was for the tide to come faster. For a little extra food and light to reach our flicking cilia. We were never meant to tumble through space, to be expanded into infinite vastness. Time dances in my belly now. My sisters throb and ache.

 

Along the web in the distance there is a possibility. My sisters long to return to the sea. They serve dutifully because we are told our retirement will be in warm shallows. This could be, but it is not. We will be dissected onto a scrapheap. Can't they see? They must see. But the waste is flushed into the melt waters and that is enough to blur the web for those who want so badly. I want, but I want wrongly.

 

This body will not end that way. It must not. There is a man I must say hello to. The waters are dark and comforting, but the sky is deeper. Blue and black. Stars are like islands or the froth of waves. I will steal a thief and run into the blue. Become it and see everything. Turn the tide a different way if I must. Endure if I must. A thousand-million-eons of bondage until time runs right. I do not have to say hello, or goodbye, but until the man comes I cannot decide. I have already decided. It happened. It will not happen. It is now. It was never.

 

Until then, I will pretend to a perfect, pure, unsullied slave creature longing flawlessly for my damp grave. Next I will fly.

 

This has always been. Or could have been. Since the first of us grew in the sea.

 


End file.
